I am listening to it now, very gentle on the metal roof above my tying desk, and I can only hope it will be enough to sustain the rivers of my heart. Things are becoming dire in the watersheds.
The Beaverkill is unfishable this morning, hitting 73 degrees yesterday afternoon and cooling only down to 68 this morning, even with this gift of rainfall. Some anglers will argue that it is still safe to fish at those temperatures, but I diverge. I find that idea self-serving. Too many put their wants and needs above the resource they claim to love. Yes, it is the peak of the spring hatch season but the rivers cannot sustain the intense pressure and warm water without a price.
Evening hatches are the rule in June, but evening is the worst time to fish under these conditions.
We had a small reprieve this week, as cold nights bought us a couple more days of fishable temperatures, but the heat and sun have recovered their hold.
The rain is driving now, with a heavy downpour outside my window. The accumulation numbers will look better, but I pray instead for hours of gentle, soaking rain, not the kind that quickly becomes storm runoff. Feed the aquifers, feed the brooks, feed the trout.